


Easing into the Deep End

by myao3stories



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myao3stories/pseuds/myao3stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Mad King Gangrel and during the two year layover, Maribelle takes Lon'qu in her manor in order to teach him not to have such an aversion to women, and perhaps instill some manners in him as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It will surely take some time!

            It was a cold day in Ylisstol, the kind that would make most people stay inside by the fire and drink tea. By the gods, this is what Maribelle planned on doing, albeit with a more work-intensive plan in mind than simply sitting around.

            She made her way through the halls of her family’s manor, parasol in hand as usual. The servants paid their respects to the lady as she passed, but they tensed up as another figure passed them about twenty paces back from Maribelle.

            The man was Feroxi (nominally, at least), and certainly had the stance of a barbarian. Most of the servants tried paying no mind, but when you have more noble bearings than a warrior stalking through the halls behind your employer, it was hard not to take notice.

            Lon’qu felt no more comfortable in this scenario than the servants did, possibly even less so. Maribelle, to her credit, paid no mind to either groups’ discomfort of the other as they walked down the hall. Eventually, the two made their way into the tea room, the fire already roaring and giving the room a much needed sense of coziness.

            “Please, have a seat,” Maribelle said as she handed her parasol off to her butler, taking a seat by the fire.

            Lon’qu glanced at the placement of the chairs – they were spaced apart in a comfortable manner for him, though most would claim the distance would hardly be polite. He unbuckled his sword belt and set it next to the chair before sitting in it. “This really isn’t necessary…”

            “Of course it is, darling,” his new hostess said. She waved her hand and her butler quickly brought her tea set, setting it down on a small table next to her and did the same for Lon’qu’s. “With that awful business in Plegia taken care of, we appear to have a bit of downtime. I told you that I’d help you out with your little problem, didn’t I?”

            “Wouldn’t call it ‘little’.” Lon’qu grumbled under his breath as he poured his tea and sipped it. “I can deal with the tea time, but I could just stay in a tavern.” Maribelle had arranged for Lon’qu to stay in the guest quarters, something Lon’qu was not happy with.

            “Don’t start with that again, I won’t have it. It’ll be easier to meet Chrom’s call if we are together, or are you afraid people will talk?” Maribelle gave a sly grin as she glanced towards Lon’qu.

            “I feel like _I_ should be saying that to _you_ ,” the swordsman grumbled again as he drank his tea in silence. To her credit, Maribelle knew his tastes, at least. However, how she had acquired Feroxi tea leaves so quickly is beyond him. “Don’t you have… noble things to be doing?”

            “Is teaching you to not quiver at the sight of a woman not noble?”

            “You know what I meant.”

            “Hmm…” Maribelle pretended to think for a moment, “Should I go to court where I know most dislike me, but pretend to put on a joyful face at my passing? Or should I remain with the man who puts on a deplorable face, but deep down likes my company?”

            Lon’qu couldn’t necessarily fault her logic at that. Besides, the two had been fighting together for the better part of a year, nearly, and not even half the nobles were like her or Chrom. Most probably never even held a weapon in their life, let alone taken a life. Well, directly, anyways.

            “Luckily, that _was_ a rhetorical question, so you needn’t answer. But you should also strive to be a tad more vocal, if only to alleviate peoples’ initial reactions of you and your, ahem, demeanor.” Maribelle set her tea down and turned her chair towards Lon’qu. “And straighten your back! Heavens know what dreadful manners you Feroxi have, but while you’re a guest, I expect something more fitting of a proper gentleman!”

            Lon’qu had slowly been sinking into the rather comfy chair, slouching in it like a student in the middle of a particularly boring lecture. He intended to keep this little rebellion until he saw she was getting up. “Gods, fine, alright!” he said, quicker than he intended, and straightened himself properly. She was still standing, however, and he raised an eyebrow at that. “Just what are you doing now?”     

            “Let us start our first lesson, dear. As fun as it is to sit twenty feet apart, you and I are going to slowly begin moving closer,” Lon’qu suppressed a groan, “Now, stand up and take a single step closer to me”

            Belatedly, Lon’qu stood up and turned to Maribelle. With great hesitation, he took a step closer to her. “Now what?”

            “Now we wait a few minutes. Feel free to move your chair closer to you,” Lon’qu dragged the chair across the rug, causing Maribelle to wince. The rug was quite expensive, no doubt dragging a heavy chair, even half a food, ruined part of it. “Good enough…” Maribelle shook her head and sat back in her chair. “Feel free to take your seat and enjoy your tea – and pick the table up when you move it. Your lesson is done for the day.”

            Lon’qu did just that and sank back into the chair, letting out a somewhat deep breath. He hadn’t even realized he was holding it in until that moment, even his hands were shaking as he grabbed his tea cup.

            The two drank their tea in silence, watching the fire roar.


	2. An invitation to trouble

The weather had continued being dull and dreary, the common type for Ylissean winters. Lon’qu downright hated it, if he had to be honest. Where Regna Ferox at least had snow, Ylisse only had grey, damp days followed by similar nights. It somehow felt worse to deal with that than snow and ice.

It had been a few weeks since Lon’qu had first arrived in Ylisstol and had tea, and slowly he had been moving closer to Maribelle. Where before he needed to walk twenty paces behind her as they traversed the halls of Maribelle’s manor, now he only had to stay fifteen apart.

Part of him suspected it was more warming up to Maribelle, personally, rather than women as a whole. She had been the first woman in quite some time that he had felt close enough to that he needn’t lash out every time they bumped shoulders, though there were still the odd outbursts and subsequent scolding.

He admired Maribelle’s persistence and, more importantly, patience with his condition. Most women would have ceased talking to him the first time they spoke, then again, most of the women in the Shepherds weren’t “most” women. At least they didn’t laugh when he told them to keep their distance.

The swordsman was walking through Maribelle’s garden, though most of the plants were hibernating or whatever plants did during the winter. It was probably very extravagant when they flowers were in full bloom and not wilting.

Speak of the devil, he heard Maribelle approaching slowly. Even without his honed senses, the crunch of her feet on the stone path gave her position away. “Ah, there you are, darling, I have been searching for you all over!” Maribelle was in a light winter coat, something unsuitable for a real winter, and shivered from a gust of wind. “Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were avoiding me.”

As much as he did prefer to be alone, there was part of Lon’qu that enjoyed the company Maribelle provided. “Just admiring the garden,” he said with a shrug.

“Yes, the rose bushes are particularly not there today,” Maribelle stood a ways away from him, as she usually did just before a less, “now I’m hoping we’ll have enough time for you to see them in the spring. At least then we could have tea here instead of the study.”

Lon’qu turned to her, “Is it time for that already?”

“Yes and no. I simply thought to inform you that Lissa would be visiting later this afternoon, so it seems that you have a break today from having to step closer to me.”

Lon’qu had foiled an assassination attempt on Lissa months ago, just before attempting to rescue Emmeryn. The two continued to chat sparingly, more than Lon’qu had talked to any other woman before staying with Maribelle, anyways. For a moment, he was worried that he regressed from where he was with Lissa. Before, he could be in the same tent as her and chat, but had time and distance caused that to evaporate?

“Your brow is furrowed. Something on your mind?”

“I’m thinking… I should sit with you both, that is, if it’s not too much of a ‘girl time’.”

Maribelle’s face lit up at that. “Oh, I doubt it’d be any trouble at all! I know you and Lissa were close before, and no doubt she’s missed your company as much as my own.”

Lon’qu didn’t doubt that, but he suddenly felt as though he was maneuvered into asking instead of simply being offered. Maribelle was quite pleased with her little move, to be sure. “Just tell me when.”

“Funnily enough, Lissa is already waiting for us, and I do believe we’ve kept her waiting for far too long.” Maribelle spun on her heel and walked off, letting Lon’qu follow at his own pace.

It was going to be an interesting evening, to be sure.


	3. Vexing Thoughts

            Ever since staying in Maribelle’s manor, Lon’qu had more than enough down time. When not stabbing people on the battlefield, he was usually practicing his swordsmanship and other training exercises. As such, he has never had more than a few hours every few weeks to sit around and do nothing.

            He was completely unprepared for this evening.

            When he and Maribelle had his daily session – drinking tea and the like, all the while moving him ever closer to her – the two would sit in the comfortable silence that two close friends can share.

            Unfortunately, Lissa and Maribelle’s friendship included a lot of chatting and a lot of gossip. At first, he appreciated the insight to what the other Shepherds were doing, but soon it devolved into inane prattle.

            The two women sat in lavish chairs next to a tea set, going into their second hour of catching up. Lon’qu sat further away than he usually did, although he and Lissa were “close” for him and a woman, going on the same side of the room as two of them at once was an impossibility for the moment.

            Alone with his thoughts, more or less, Lon’qu was unprepared for the boredom that began to set in. No doubt he would be chastised if he tried to practice his swordplay here, the last time he did, he misjudged a swing and there was an expensive mess on the floor.

            Leaning against the armrest of his chair, the swordsman took a sip of his tea and muttered, “This was a mistake,” out loud. He didn’t realize he said it loud enough for the two noblewomen to hear until a distinct, loud silence filled the room.

            “If you’re bored, Lon’qu, you could come over and actually, you know, talk to us!” Lissa said after a moment.

            Lon’qu looked away, “No.”

            “Aw, why not?”

            “I’m fine where I’m at.”

            “And here I thought Maribelle was starting to make you NOT such a stick in the mud!”

            “He has been making remarkable strides, darling,” Maribelle interjected, leaning back in her chair. “For starters, while his posture _is_ abhorrent, it’s also shows how calm he is now in the presence of two ladies such as ourselves. I suspect that had he been in this position a month ago, he’d be stiff as a board!”

            Lon’qu took a moment to mentally check himself over. Maribelle was right, his posture was more relaxed and less defensive than it once was. Leaning against his hand with his legs crossed, an almost bored position that any lordling might take… Perhaps strides _had_ been made and they had simply been too subtle to notice?

            Feeling both sets of eyes on him now, Lon’qu quickly became more self-conscious over his body and straightened himself out, like a child would during school. “I think I need to step out,” he said, grimacing. He was fine with both of them in the room with him before, but now that they had their attention on him, he felt his old habits coming up again.

            Maribelle watched him, the fire from the tea room giving her eyes a somewhat mischievous glint to them. “But of course. Do feel free to retire whenever you so choose. Just be sure not to give any of the female servants heart attacks on your way out.”

            “Yeah, yeah…” Lon’qu got up and quickly left the room, letting out a sigh of relief. He walked through the halls back towards his chambers, running a hand through his hair. That vixen of a woman sure had a way of worming into his thoughts more and more. She had stopped escorting him around after the second week, correctly assuming he had the layout memorized and that he could avoid any embarrassing incidents.

            However, in his time alone, he had a frightening few thoughts dance through his head. Namely they were of Maribelle, and what started as contemplating how far she would be taking his “training”.

            Thoughts of simple actions for others – pats on the back or shoulder, even holding hands – occasionally pushed forward on his mind. These usually led to more impossible, lofty ambitions – standing arm in arm, delicate touches to the cheek.

            Kissing.

            “Gods, these emotions are so vexing…” Lon’qu shook his head as he stepped into his room, shutting the door and locking it. What he wouldn’t give for some of Panne’s special tea right about now.

            Maybe I should bring these thoughts up to Maribelle, he thought to himself before promptly dismissing it. It is bad enough to get caught out of breath from merely thinking about her, let alone attempting to talk to her about them. Not to mention she, as a noble, may feel something amiss may occur if she keeps someone with such thoughts in her household.

            The thought of leaving her in a permanent sense frightened Lon’qu more than he wanted to admit.


	4. Observations from Afar

            Maribelle made her rounds through the halls of her manor, letting the afternoon slowly pass on by at its own, leisurely pace. A few days had passed since the semi-disaster that was attempting to have Lon’qu in the same room as two women, and since then she had given him some space, letting him come to her on his own accord.

            Rather surprisingly, he did. Every day at the same time they would sit in the same room and dine together, and every day he would sit one chair closer to her on that elaborate, long table of hers.  

            She stepped onto one of the balconies that overlooked the garden and wished it was spring again. Some of her favorite flowers wouldn’t begin to bloom for another month or so, and the garden was just a dreadful sight until then.

            Although, there was one impressive sight in it today.

            Worried that he was growing too rusty in the manor, Lon’qu asked Maribelle one night if he could use her garden to train in, or at least swing his sword for a few hours. Of course, she granted this permission, that way it would have one use.

            This also allowed her to observe him and his style in a more casual setting, rather than during battle when she had to be more concerned with his wounds than the way he glistened in the cool, sunny afternoon. It was rather easy to do so with the way he never wore a shirt during training. He explained it as a form of “weather adaptation” and Maribelle wasn’t going to complain about it one bit.

            She also had to admit that his build rivaled several of her statues that littered her manor grounds. Though, unlike the more idealized body of those marble men, Lon’qu had many scars that most artisans wouldn’t dare put onto their art. Observing Lon’qu as he trained allowed Maribelle to slowly begin to learn about the much larger ones that marred his body, each telling their own tale of valor.

            Or foolhardiness, most likely. Many of those scars of his wouldn’t be as large as they are if he allowed healers near him, no doubt there were few of them in Regna Ferox to begin with. Although, when most of the priests and clerics in the Shepherds are women (or look like one), and with Lon’qu’s condition, it’s rather understandable how he’d be so hesitant to call for aid.

            Who knows? Maybe the Shepherds would get some thuggish looking man to be a priest one day. No doubt he’d be cut from a common cloth, though, certainly no one of noble blood could be the brutish healer Maribelle envisioned.

            Maribelle was lost in thought as she continued to watch Lon’qu’s methodical practice swings, leaning against the railing with her head resting in her hand. For a moment, Lon’qu looked up, their eyes meeting for a fraction of a second before he continued. If she didn’t know any better, Maribelle might’ve thought that he almost seemed distracted by her watching him.

            That was impossible, of course. She had gauged how far she could be while watching him without him getting distracted. Someone with his mental fortitude couldn’t possibly get as flustered at the glances of a woman, at least when she’s a hundred feet away and above him. Though she did find herself fancying the idea of him being so distracted, at least while training. At least, only if it was really _her_ gaze that he was distracted by, the thought of him faltering for someone else at that moment was trivial, but she cared nonetheless.

 

            In truth, Maribelle was all that was running through Lon’qu’s mind as he trained. Usually, his mind would be blank – cleared of all thought beyond mechanical movement of his sword arm. As of late, however, his mind was becoming more and more cluttered with thoughts of her. So much so that he couldn’t bear to miss his daily session with her, even if it was but a meal.

            To have met her gaze while so mentally vulnerable caused him to mess his swing up for a fraction of a second.  He was thankful he was already red-faced from the exertion of his training, or else she might start to suspect something. His heart pounded in a different way than simply being exercised. It felt ready to burst out of his chest with thuds that he felt were loud enough to be drums.

            His training was ruined for the day. He suddenly felt self-conscious about training in his usual fashion in front of her. The feeling hounded him as he checked his blade once before sliding it back in its sheathe. Even the other men and women in the Shepherds didn’t elicit such a physical response as he trained.

            Putting his coat back on, he glanced back up to Maribelle. Their eyes met again, and Lon’qu had to break it again before he doubled over like someone punched his gut. He couldn’t understand why this was happening to him, these… feelings he had when he looked at her, or thought of her…

 

            The second time their eyes met today, Maribelle felt something stir in her. She was glad that he walked away when he did, and that she was so far from him. She could feel that her cheeks had become somewhat red the longer she gazed into his handsome eyes.

            Perhaps spending so much time together was a mistake. Surely she couldn’t be falling in love with him? This was supposed to be purely professional, helping a friend and comrade with his issue. Instead, it’s led to her crushing on him from afar like some schoolgirl!

            It’ll pass, no doubt. There is no way that Lon’qu could ever love her back. It would take a century of work to get him that close. But, then again, a flight of fancy now and again is healthy. Maybe one day he would be able to hold her hand, at the very least, and perhaps that would be the start of something wonderful.


	5. A sense of longing

            Over the course of the next week, the two had subtly begun to grow closer to one another. Lon’qu’s lessons had a rather unexpected and rapid leap in how close he allowed himself to get to Maribelle, physically at least. Emotionally, well, Lon’qu’s heart kept pounding each and every time they held their session together.

            When they were but a foot away, the swordsman was sure that she could hear the thudding. No woman nor battle had ever caused him to have this kind of anxiety, it lasted even after leaving Maribelle for the day. It was a sense of longing that occupied his thoughts day in and day out, it went so far as to affect his sword practice as well.

            “Whenever you’re ready, Lon’qu,” Maribelle said, interrupting his thoughts. She was as patient as ever with him, more than he felt a woman should with someone like him.

            Hesitantly, Lon’qu lifted his hand and moved it towards Maribelle. “R-Right…” Could he do it? Touch the woman who took him in to help him? These feelings felt like a betrayal of the trust the two had been building. Harboring feelings for a teacher, no matter the subject matter, was a recipe for disaster.

            “You’re almost there. Stay focused.” And so he was. With a grunt, his hand met her cheek, sending what felt like electricity through his system. “Excellent! You finally managed to touch me, and with almost no simpering to boot.” His calloused hand was in stark contrast to her soft cheek, the sheer difference in status easily noted in but a touch. “Mmm, your hand runs cool.”

            That remark almost made him collapse from shock, and he had to fumble out his next sentence, “Your cheek is… warm.”

            Once he pried his hand off of her cheek, Maribelle continued, “Let’s break here for today, yes? Steadily decreasing the distance day by day seems to be working.”

            “I expected you to fill a tiger pit with women and push me in,” The moment that left Lon’qu’s mouth, he knew he was most likely the world’s foremost idiot when it comes to women.

            To her credit, Maribelle only smiled. “Gentlemen have likened me to many things before, Lon'qu, but never a sharp spike. Besides, you asked for a "normal" method. I think this one is quite reasonable.”

            Lon’qu ran the hand that, for but a moment, held her cheek though his hair. “It is. But we've been at it for so long, and I've only just managed to touch your cheek. I have taken so much of your time.” The guilt from that set in rapidly, mixed with the shame for having fallen for her.

            “Oh, pish! It's no bother at all!” The noblewoman continued to smile at him, and then immediately through him off guard. “Still, I suppose you have a point. Perhaps we ought to make arrangements for the long term, mmm?”

            Lon’qu didn’t dare to hope it meant what he thought it did. “Meaning…?”

            “Well,” Maribelle began, “I could continue to train you indefinitely if we were married.”

            “You have no obligation to do that,” Lon’qu countered all too quickly. He did not wish to bring her down to his level just to continue teaching him these lessons.

            “Gods, but you can be dreadfully dense at times. Do you think I would propose marriage out of a sense of obligation?”

            “Er, no,” Once more, Lon’qu felt as the expert on misreading women in the world.

            “So then! We've now established how I feel about you, albeit somewhat painfully...” Lon’qu’s face flushed in embarrassment, “Perhaps you would return the favor.”

            There was a brief pause before Lon’qu began, “I… feel something for you as well, though I do not have the words for it,” Or, more accurately, he dared not say the words as though they were some damning curse, “I yearn to keep you safe in my arms until the breath leaves my body. And yet, I can barely touch you. It is shameful. I have no right to ask your hand.”

            The moment seemed to crystalized as his love spoke, “Oh, Lon'qu, there's no hurry. We have the rest of our lives! And _you_ , my dear, are a catch worth waiting for.” The anxiety that he had been feeling over the past few days seemed to dissipate with these words. The stress of having these words unspoken for so long seemed a distant memory.

            “Perhaps we could practice one more time,” Lon’qu smiled at Maribelle, “I would very much like to hold your hand as we walk to town. We will need a ring, after all.”

            “With you, my dear, I would walk anywhere. Now get those colds hands over here!” The two locked hands as they left Maribelle’s manor towards the marketplace. And although the two remained a small distance from one another as they walked, with enough time, this gap would close.


End file.
